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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822866">A Real Knockout</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatamago/pseuds/Hanatamago'>Hanatamago</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abyss (FE3H), During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Fluff and Angst, Introspection, M/M, Pining, Yuri lacks experience with genuine casual affection and physical comfort, semi-graphic wounds, wound care</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:22:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatamago/pseuds/Hanatamago</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not the first time he’s come knocking, and it won’t be the last. Yuri always heals him up after a long day of fighting. Heh, it’s sort of a ritual at this point, looking out for each other. Has been since Balthus returned.</p><p>It's more than that, too. It's more in so, so many words Yuri can't speak aloud, but Balthus has to know that by now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Real Knockout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nine rounds in, and, as expected, Balthus is unstoppable in the ring. Heh, it’d almost be boring to watch if the guy wasn’t such an entertainer at heart. He’s damn strong, even without harnessing the power of his crest. He knows it, too, so he’s started going for style points in his matches on top of the takedowns. Yeah, he plays to the crowd, and Yuri can’t really blame him for that. He’s got a cocky smirk plastered on his face as he takes a swig of his ale, daring any new challengers to come down to the ring. It’s brazen arrogance, the kind that would get him killed in a real battle, but damn if it doesn’t make the fights fun to watch, even when they all know who’s gonna win. And hey, there’s still plenty of other matches for people to bet on if they want real odds.</p><p>Yuri has never been one to partake in the fighting, but it’s become quite a popular spectator sport. They’ve come a long way from their little brawls by the bridge on Burrow Street over the years. With most of the tunnels cleared of creepy doll constructs and no nosy knights up top to worry about, they’ve managed to clear most of the rubble out of the arena ruins and resurrect it into something a little more habitable. The stone benches aren’t comfy by any means, but as the fights got bigger, merchants set up cramped food stands and mercenaries brought in tables for dice. It’s a good sort of place to spend evenings when you’ve got the time. If the fights are a bust, then hey, the place is usually still good for a bit of conversation.</p><p>The last few rounds are fought by a bunch of no-names, but they’re impressive no-names - Yuri will give them that. One swordsman pulls out a particularly devilish move with a training sword, using a blunt blow from his hilt to daze his enemy. It left him a little open on the upswing, although his opponent wasn’t quick or perceptive enough to catch the lapse in his guard. Still, the footwork was good. Yuri files it away for later - perhaps he could improve on the technique with a little experimentation. In another fight, a grappler lands a flying kick to knock his opponent down - he’s out before he hits the ground. It’s way too flashy for his style, but the crowd goes wild for that kind of shit. And hey, no one comes to the ring to see the kind of maneuvers you’d find in a book on tactics. Heh, unless it’s bar fighting tactics.</p><p>And of course, there’s Balthus… Balthus fights like he lives: loud and a little too reckless. See, his opponents manage to get plenty of punches in, it’s just that for some Goddess damned reason, the man’s only slightly more delicate than a fucking mountain, and quick enough that for every hit they get in, he gets two back. He’s a good showman, too. Smug one-liners and taunts to get his challengers to fight just as brashly as he does. That’s why Yuri’s taken to watching his fights these days - because he puts on a good show, No other reason. And if his heart skipped a little beat when Balthus shot him a wink before catching a myrmidon in a chokehold that put his triceps on <i>full display</i>-</p><p>His heart didn’t skip a beat, but if it did, Yuri’s the only one who’d ever know.</p><p>When the last fights end, the crowd finally begins to filter out of the arena and the mercenaries wander back to their business. A betting clerk distributes small shares of coin, reading names from a thick, ale-stained ledger. It’s still early into the evening, so there’s plenty of time for losers to drink away the pain, and for lucky guessers to spend their shiny new coin on all Abyss has to offer. Hey, the Wilting Rose Inn has got some pretty good grub these days, thanks to their protection deals with the monastery village below.</p><p>The festivities afterward are always nice. A bard plays at the inn most nights and there's plenty of drunken revelry to indulge in, but Yuri has other business to attend to. Alas, his work is never quite done, not for Abyss. It’s worth it. Has to be.</p><p>So, while he’d love to stay and chat over drinks, he makes his way back to his chambers and lights a few dim lamps over his desk. It’s a bit drafty, but a little warmer now that they’ve got torches all up the hall. A tiny spark springs from his fingers to set his silver candle alight. Nothing fancy, just wax to be melted and pressed into a small seal on his folded letters - a simple mockingbird, though most probably don’t recognize the exact creature by its shape alone.</p><p>Yuri lets out a quiet sigh, settling into his chair. He’s set on conquering a small pile of scrolls that have yet to be signed and sent off. Mostly trade deals for Abyss, protection contracts here and there, sometimes the occasional monster bounty he sends Balthus to collect. Recently, he’s been bombarded with scouting arrangements for the resistance in the Kingdom and a few different houses in the Alliance. He takes them. It’s good gold, easy gold for his own well-trained band of thieves. Technically, Abyss doesn’t pick sides, but the Goddess herself might come down to end this war before Yuri would stoop to spying for the Empire.</p><p>He gets through a bit of the paperwork, not as much as he’d like. Signed deals and final propositions slide into a leather case, off to be delivered the next day. Of course, after the easy stuff, there are political matters at hand. Merchants looking to deal in information, lords looking to hire experienced, trustworthy assassins, and of course, those in the business of making kings. Edelgard knew better than to approach Abyss, but Claude, now the leader of the Alliance, has proven to be quite a bold trickster himself. For what it’s worth, if Yuri’s got him pinned down, his dream is something worth believing in. Still, Yuri sets his letter aside - he hasn’t formulated a response just yet. </p><p>Ah… Yuri sighs once more. That’s all the work he’ll be getting done tonight, isn’t it? Like clockwork, Balthus raps at the door as soon as he can fix the scrolls into a neat pile. Three heavy knocks. </p><p>“Busy?” His voice rumbles through the door, rough but sober.</p><p>“For you? Never.” Yuri laughs and strides over to the door, pulling it open. Balthus leans against the bricked wall outside, still fresh from the ring. His eyes glow in the firelight, warm caramel. He’s handsome, even with half-dried blood spilling through a few cuts and scrapes on his chest, even with his lip busted to hell. It’s an errant thought, a stupid, foolishly hopeful little thought, but one Yuri hasn’t managed to quash in these past moons. Injuries. Right. The soldier in round three got a good punch in. Yuri can see the telltale swelling of a black eye, but it’s nothing too bad, nothing Balthus isn’t used to at this point.</p><p>It’s not the first time he’s come knocking, and it won’t be the last. Yuri always heals him up after a long day of fighting. Heh, it’s sort of a ritual at this point, looking out for each other. Has been since Balthus returned.</p><p>With the three warring nations constantly tearing up the ground up top, Abyss has had an oddly peaceful go of things. Sure, supplies are strained from time to time, and merchants get intercepted on the south roads, but those who have come to Abyss to take shelter are off the hook for a bit while everyone’s focused on the war. </p><p>It was just a few short stints at first. Balthus appeared one day out of the blue, stayed over for a night while he got supplies together for the road. He passed through once a moon, which turned into a week here and there whenever he was on the run for debt collectors, or if he was just looking for a good fight. In fairness, it was as good an excuse as any. Sometime in the past year, the weeks started to blend together. The fights began to fill up his afternoons, and then they were drinking together, just like old times.</p><p>He’s not staying for the fights anymore, but they’re all good fun. And, selfishly, it’s a blessing to be able to watch Balthus in action - a real brawl, not his routine training against boulders and sacks of dried straw, just like in the academy days. </p><p>Balthus... Yuri couldn’t have done any of this without him. They were set free years ago, after that nasty business with Aelfric. And yet, Abyss is still the truest home Yuri’s got, so after a bit of fresh air, dealing with his old gang, he flew back to the nest. But he never expected Balthus to come back, much less to stay back.</p><p>They’re doing alright down here, thanks to Yuri’s mind for dealings and Balthus’s fists for everything else. Still, without the danger of inquisitive lords crawling down their throat, some fools have gotten a bit restless, hence the fighting. Hey, Yuri can’t blame ‘em for trying to have a good time. World above’s gone to shit, so they revel in all the cheap booze and entertainment Abyss has got to offer. </p><p>Heh… it’s not so bad, really. A crazy part of his mind wonders if maybe this is what Abyss was meant to be this whole time. It’s lenient, but not lawless. They live in the shadows, but there’s a light in Abyss’s community, in its kindness and generosity. It’s peaceful, and as of late, it’s been relatively pleasant, too. Running the place is a gig Yuri could see himself doing for a while. At least, if Abyss is still in one piece when the dust of war finally settles.</p><p>Balthus steps into the room, shedding his tan robes to hang them by the door. <i>Goddess</i>. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen a hundred times before, but there’s an intimacy to this dance Yuri hasn’t yet figured out. Something about Balthus makes him lose track of the cards he’s holding. </p><p>“Good fights today, dontcha think?” Balthus crosses his arms in front of his chest, stretching out the aches. Yuri grabs a few cloths and bandages from his drawer, averting his eyes. </p><p>“Gotta say, I’m surprised there are still people willing to fight you at this point.” Yuri sighs. “'King of Grappling'… You’d think the title would scare them off, yeah? Though I suppose there are always fools like you wandering about, just looking for a good brawl.”</p><p>“Harsh,” Balthus whistles, plopping down on the edge of Yuri’s bed. Yuri wets a cloth in the basin and begins to dab away flecks of dark blood crusting over the thin scratches along his chest. “Can’t be that much of an idiot if I keep winning, can I?” Balthus lets out a hearty laugh, and the sound brightens up the cramped quarters in some immaterial way he can’t really reason out. Yuri can’t help but smile a bit. </p><p>“You can be, and I assure you, you are.” Yuri smirks, “How many times have you broken your nose again, friend?” </p><p>Yuri traces over the thin cuts and swelling bruises. He tries not to think about the feel of Balthus’s firm, unyielding muscle under his hands. The injuries - Goddess, Yuri’s head isn’t on right today. Balthus fought for hours earlier just looking for a solid challenger. Not that anyone down here can really put him on the back foot, of course. Still, he’s racked up a slew of wounds over the day. Probably hurts, but he’s used to it. His own natural stamina is enough to keep him going while the adrenaline’s high, but the crash after… Balthus just might be too tough for his own good, if that’s possible. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Too many to count, I gotcha.” Balthus grins. “Fun to watch though, eh?” </p><p>“Only when they put up a good fight… Besides, no one down here is dumb enough to bet against you anymore - you ruined the books.” Yuri focuses a bit of his energy, humming a small hymn under his breath as emerald light sparks from his fingertips, closing up shallow wounds. His bruises soon fade from an angry maroon to a patchy pink.</p><p>“What about you?” Balthus takes a damp cloth and wipes the stale sweat from his brow.</p><p>“What about me?” Yuri untucks the first, tight fold of his hand wraps, pulling the strip loose so he can slowly unwind it. They’re stiff, and important from what Yuri can tell. Yuri doesn’t know shit about boxing, but Balthus says they’re his lucky set, stiff enough to get a good punch in, but with enough give that they haven’t torn up yet. </p><p>“You could beat me in a fight.” The cloth comes away from his hands, revealing thick, reddened calluses over his knuckles and deep, broad lines carved into his sun-weathered palms. Yuri’s hand idles for a moment, pausing over Balthus’s own before he snaps himself away. Foolish. </p><p>“Heh, with a sword, maybe.” Yuri shakes his head, moving to the next hand wrap. “Otherwise, I don’t like my odds.” He’s right though, Yuri could beat him - in a real fight, not a match of strength alone. In a straight brawl, with no weapons, he wouldn’t have much of a chance. Quick as Yuri is, his strength is unrivaled. If Balthus caught him in a hold, no way he could pull his way out of it, though he’s got more than one dirty trick up his sleeve if an enemy ever manages to grapple him. It’s enough to make him think though, about a real fight, Balthus pinning him against a wall, and - heh, that’s enough of that.</p><p>The air gets weird down here sometimes, and it isn’t the draft. The air stills, silent and heavy, like it’s waiting for words to spill out and shatter onto the floor. Much as he wishes it were some holdover from the tunnels, some odd magic and stagnant air left by the church, he knows it’s not Abyss to blame.</p><p>It’s that, as of late, they just can’t seem to stop looking at each other. Yuri can’t help but lose track of his eyes flicking about when he’s in the fighting ring, or when he’s warm and weary under Yuri’s hands - when Yuri's mind scatters to the wind and he imagines the absurd, unwise ways he could better put those hands to use. Balthus is no better. He stares at Yuri too. When he’s planning smuggling routes, talking to mercs, or just seeing that the families with kids get their rations first. </p><p>And once, deep in the tunnels, when Yuri thought he was alone, Balthus heard him sing. He hasn’t looked Yuri straight in the eye since.</p><p>“So ya wouldn’t bet against me, right?” Balthus sheds the second hand wrap, shutting his eyes as Yuri brushes over the darkest bruises on his chest, just below his rib cage. A guy in round seven got a sucker punch on him. It’s fair play in a brawl, and hey, Balthus got what he deserved for playing to the crowd anyway. Still, hurt to watch, even if Balthus paid him back double in straight blows.</p><p>“Heh, not exactly,” Yuri cups his face, pouring an extra bit of healing magic into the swelling on his jaw and neck. “Just that the goons down here are no match for the <i>King of Grappling</i> in a brawl. Now, Hapi’s monsters on the other hand-”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, that’s cheating. Monsters are out of bounds, pal. But down here, you’d pick my side in a wager.”</p><p>“Yes.” Yuri agrees, a little surprised by his own conviction. Certainties are always brash, and yet, with Balthus, he’s willing to take that gamble, ten times out of ten. “Down here, I’d bet on you.”</p><p>Yuri thumbs over his cracked lips, closing the gash where his lower lip splits into crimson. Balthus’s eyes flutter open - dark, rich hickory that pins Yuri in place, even when every fiber of his being begs to look away. He can’t.</p><p>“Good. ‘Cause I plan on stayin’ by your side.” For an instant, the pressure of his lips against Yuri’s fingertips is blissfully affectionate, far too intimate. Yuri snatches his hand back a little too quickly, as though Balthus were fire made flesh.</p><p>He might be.</p><p>“You’re all healed up, friend.” Yuri pulls away with a last, cursory glance over his wounds. He’s left a few pinkish scrapes, light bruises too, but nothing his body won’t eventually take care of on its own. These little marks will easily close up and fade away with time, unlike the deeper scars he carries from the constant wartime skirmishes up top - and the scars from before that.</p><p>Scorched, uneven tissue twists into a deep maroon spiral just above his hip, mangling a patch of skin that stretches across his side. It was his anchor point in the Rite of Rising, a node of corrupt magic tethered by Aelfric’s first sacrificial slash. Damn things nearly bled them all dry. Yuri’s got a matching one on his back, but it’s always been more painful to look at Balthus’s mark. It’ll never heal. It hasn’t after this many years, no matter how much faith magic Yuri pours into the damn thing. Heh, the worst scar anyone’s ever left him with, and it’s Yuri’s doing, in all the ways that count. </p><p>“Got your brooding face on, Boss.” Damnit. Yuri let his eyes linger a moment too long. “C’mon, spill.” It’s a stretch, but after this many moons, Yuri tries to be honest with him, even when it’s difficult to put it all into words. Even when he worries those words might reveal more than he intends.</p><p>“...I wish I could regret it.” Balthus deserves to know, to hear the feeble, whispered confession from Yuri’s lips. Balthus takes his hand and guides it to the gnarled brand. </p><p>“This little thing?” He chuckles, “Come on, y’know I can take more than that. I’m tougher than I look.”</p><p>Yuri shakes his head. “All of it.” He looks up, lilac eyes falling on umber. </p><p>He wants to say he didn’t have a choice, didn’t have another way out. Wants to act like it was a reluctant, pained decision to flip the way he did, but really, it was a win for him either way. </p><p>If they fought and won, Yuri had guaranteed their freedom. If they fought and lost - if they died… Heh, well, Abyss still would have been safe if that bastard kept his word. He would have.</p><p>So, by the odds, no, Yuri can’t regret it. He can’t say he would have made another choice, or that he didn’t mean to hurt Balthus. He knew the risks, knew the consequences, and he took that bet anyway.</p><p>It’s easy to justify. Greater good, for one. And he didn’t care about Balthus then - not like he does now. He was a good friend, a better ally, but he didn’t hold Yuri’s whole damn world in his eyes back then. Yuri didn’t flinch when he got hurt across the field, didn’t hesitate to put him in the front of their unit, face to face against menacing demonic beasts.</p><p>
  <i>“And here I thought we were close...” Balthus gritted his teeth, straining against the ropes. It was a sturdy tie, but a few delicate, intentional tears in the rope started to fray under his strength. Good. All according to plan.</i>
</p><p>The way he looked at Yuri back then… Anger, he expected from Balthus, but hurt?</p><p>
  <i>“It hurts, Boss. Hurts bad.” He was fiery as always, all bravado and vigor even while scarlet blood stained the edges of his jacket, seeping from a gash in his hip. Yet in his eyes… Devastation. And for a second, for the first time in years, Yuri faltered.</i>
</p><p>It shattered Yuri. He hadn’t expected it to, but it did. Balthus’s pain, his disbelief, the knowledge that Yuri had crushed the closest bond he’d ever had, and remorselessly, too. It was the right choice - it was the best choice, empirically, so why the fuck did he feel like he’d been run through with a lance?</p><p>
  <i>“You wanna die, that it? Fine. I’ll kill you myself.” Balthus spat a mouthful of blood onto the stone tiles, holy masonry twisted by the bitter magic in the air. Perhaps Yuri would have thought it ironic if it weren’t so damn awful. “Just stop that crafty nonsense of yours and face me, fist to fist.”</i>
</p><p>And no, Yuri didn’t intend to die. But as wrong as Balthus might have been about that part, his words were fair. Warranted. Because as much as Yuri believed he could get them all out alive, he had to <i>lie</i> so damn much to do it. And Yuri wishes, he <i>wishes</i> he could regret deceiving Balthus, that in another universe, he could say he wouldn’t have done the same. He can’t... Because he never allowed himself to think twice? Because he never let himself rely on anyone but himself, never allowed himself to get too damn close, because the second he starts to <i>care</i>, the second his heart starts fumbling decisions, he’s dead in the water. </p><p>And all that’s tough to say out loud. Outright impossible. But through actions… Maybe Balthus will pick up the shattered bits of all the words that just crumble dry in his mouth. Maybe he’ll know, and that’ll have to be enough. </p><p>So this ritual that they have, it’s more for Yuri than Balthus. Because in some terribly convoluted way, he needs Balthus to know that he cares. And Goddess, he just wants to be <i>close</i> to the guy, even if it’s just for a few moments out of the night - twice a week. He’s not the best healer in Abyss, but admittedly, they haven’t got many good ones. Still, it’s not the most practical idea for Yuri to slowly patch up his wounds after every fight, but… It helps.</p><p>Warm, beefy arms wrap around his waist.</p><p>“Balthus, what are you-”</p><p>“It’s a hug, Yuri.” Balthus pulls him close, lifts him up into his lap as he tucks his chin into Yuri’s shoulder. “Looked like ya needed one.” A... hug. It’s unexpected, but not unwelcome. It’s… It’s quite welcome, actually. Maybe Yuri did need one, though he wouldn’t have said it himself. Admittedly, he hasn’t had much practice with physical comfort, not in this sense. Genuine warmth is still… rather foreign.</p><p>There isn’t anything to say, so he’s silent for a moment. And maybe the moment stretches on too long, but Yuri can’t deny that he’s comforting. The warmth of his skin, still a touch damp with sweat. The rise and fall of his chest, heavy against Yuri’s. The sharp scent of pine in his hair, falling in coarse waves down his shoulders. Yuri leans into the crook of his neck, basking in him - all of him - for a moment. </p><p>“Thank you, Balthus.” Balthus feels like sunlight. The gentle kind, warm on a winter day, or the red light at sunset, dim enough to gaze at as the sun dips in the sky, but beautiful all the same. Yuri never knew he needed this, but he does. Goddess, he does.</p><p>“You’ve got a lot of baggage, pal. I got that.” Balthus murmurs, “But it’s alright to let it go. The past is in the past. Way I see it, all that matters is what we’ve got now.”</p><p>“I… see.” So damn simple. So warm, even when Yuri doesn’t deserve a damn bit of his kindness.</p><p>“I’d do it all again if it led us back here.” He chuckles, “So let’s make the most of it, yeah?”</p><p>“You’re one of a kind, friend.” Yuri can’t help but laugh along, A quiet patter of breath against Balthus’s skin. That bitter cold cynic in his head still insists he should pull away, shouldn’t get too close. But another part of him, the warmer part that Balthus alone manages to wake - it wishes he could stay wrapped up in his arms just a little while longer. </p><p>And Yuri will, if... If he’s offering.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come say hi on Twitter :)<br/><a href="https://twitter.com/hanatamagos">@hanatamagos</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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